


I Really Wish I Hated You

by LadyStrallan



Category: Blink-182, The Great (TV 2020)
Genre: 18th Century, Awkward Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Imperial Russia, Infidelity, Lovers, References to Blink-182, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25839343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyStrallan/pseuds/LadyStrallan
Summary: Emperor Peter notices his best friend Grigor is unhappy (probably because Peter’s fucking his wife). What could possibly solve this? Finding Grigor a mistress of course!Set sometime after episode 5, when Grigor starts to lose his mind and resent Peter.
Relationships: Grigor Dymov & Peter III, Grigor Dymov/Georgina Dymova, Grigor Dymov/Original Character, Peter III/Georgina Dymova
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	1. First Date

“Grigor, you look as though someone’s pissed in your vodka,” Peter said, watching his friend scowl at his hangover cure. Grigor looked over at Peter who was draped over a nearby armchair.

“I’m fine, Peter, really,” he replied. He groaned and put his hand to his temple. “Except for this fucking hangover.”

Peter gave a brief chuckle. “But seriously, you’re not upset about last night?”

“What happened last night?” A fucking lie. Grigor totally remembered what had happened before he had passed out drunk. It’s not like it was a rare occurrence. They weren’t even more or less up front about it than they usually were. Maybe it was just the sneaking suspicion that George liked fucking Emperor Peter more than her own husband.

“Doesn’t matter,” sighed Peter. He took a gulp of hangover cure and wiped his mouth. “I just feel like you’re mad at me.”

“Maybe it’s cause my wife regularly has your cock in her mouth,” Grigor mumbled.

Peter smirked fondly at the memory.

“Look, I’m your best friend and I hate to see you upset. I’m also emperor, and I don’t want to stop fucking George…” He contemplated a resolution. “Ugh, everything’s been fucked up since Catherine got here. Hey, speaking of Catherine; she was unhappy, and then I got her Leo, and now she’s happy.”

Grigor realized where he was going with this. “Peter-“

He sat up abruptly from the armchair. “We should find you a mistress!” He looked at Grigor as if this was the best fucking idea ever.

“Peter, I don’t think-“

“I’m a fucking genius.” He chugged the rest of his drink triumphantly.

Grigor rolled his eyes. “Peter, I don’t need a mistress. I’m never going to be _glad_ that you’re fucking my wife but-“ He huffed. “I just don’t need a mistress.”

“Bullshit. Of course you do.” He stood from his seat and began to pace the room. “If it worked on Catherine, bless her strange, joyless heart, than it’ll work on you.”

Grigor, completely unconvinced,retorted, “You can’t force me to have sex with a lover I don’t want.”

Completely disregarding this statement, Peter continued to work out his plan.

“I’ll have Aunt Elizabeth interview them; she seems to be good with women. Of course the final decision will be mine.” He clapped his hands together. “Perfect. You’ll have a new lover by Friday.”

“Get ready to send her back, because _I don’t want a mistress_.”

“That’s the best part, Grigor,” Peter said, turning back to face him, “You will.”

Fuck, Grigor thought. George was going to kill him.

* * *

As Peter had promised, the new mistress was chosen by Friday. Aunt Elizabeth seemed fond of her; like, _really_ fond of her. She was the most highly spoken of candidate to Emperor Peter by far. The two finalists had been interviewed by Peter himself after consulting with Aunt Elizabeth.

 _She_ had come dressed in a deep red gown; Grigor’s favourite colour. Most likely this was courtesy of Aunt Elizabeth’s instruction, but a nice touch nonetheless. Peter sat alone at a desk in the middle of a large cleared out ballroom with a piece of parchment and a quill. He looked quite professional; as if he were an opera director auditioning prima donnas and not selecting a lover for his best friend. Soon after the doors were closed behind her she approached the desk. “Emperor Peter,” she said curtseying, “a pleasure.”

“Name?” He asked quite bluntly.

Her response was immediate, “Lady Viktoria Zakharova.”

“Pastimes?”

“Drinking and fucking, Emperor.”

Peter snorted, and scribbled down ‘cheeky’ next to her name. Now he was invested.

“And what exactly has made you interested in this position?” He leaned forward in his seat, eager to hear her next reply.

“I have no promising marriage prospects and am in want of a good time.” She pressed her lips together into a smile. “Besides, I should hate to be the spinster twin.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Ah, yes. I thought I had seen you around before. Count Karevsky’s wife?”

Viktoria sighed. “Yes,” Her expression turned to a cringing smile as she thought of her sister. “Dasha Karevsky.”

Peter hummed and leaned back into his chair. “Well, I have good news for you.” He smacked his lips. “It seems that you’re fucking perfect for Grigor- but, by the way, he’s not super keen on the whole mistress thing, so he might need a little convincing.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Ah.”

“But, given that you’re smoking hot and fucking hilarious, I doubt he’ll give you too much trouble.”

“Thank you, Emperor Peter.”

“Just Peter,” he corrected, “We must be friendly if you’re going to be fucking my best friend.”

She chuckled. “When do I start?”

* * *

“He’s fucking insane,” George grumbled. “You told him you wouldn’t do it, didn’t you?”

“I tried, but you know how Peter is.”

She flopped onto their bed. “God, I’m glad you’re against this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grigor asked.

She turned her head to look at him. “How do you suppose _I_ would feel if you took on a mistress?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re really in no position to say that.”

“Why not?”

Grigor scoffed. “Um, Peter,” he reminded her. “You two don’t exactly make an effort to hide it.”

George sighed. “Don’t be stupid, Grigor. He’s the _emperor_. It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Would you still fuck him if you did?” he asked. Her delayed response was enough of an answer.

He took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. You have nothing to worry about.”

She remained lying on the bed; still tense from the conflict, but satisfied by his response.

“I’m going for breakfast,” he huffed, then turned to leave their chambers.

* * *

Grigor sat at the dining table alone. Peter was late. This wasn’t uncommon, just strange considering how busy he’d been as of late. His suspicions were confirmed when Peter entered the room followed by a thin blonde in an attractive wine coloured dress. This was the mistress, he assumed. He rose from his chair.

“Ah, the man of the hour!” Peter declared. “Grigor, this is Viktoria.” He gestured to the woman as she stepped in front of him.

“Lovely to meet you, Grigor.”

He gave her a brief wave and a small smile as he grappled with her attractiveness. Fuck, she was hot.

Peter smirked. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said. He winked at Grigor as he left the room.

Grigor silently crossed the room to pull out her chair. No matter how awkward this was, he was still a gentleman. She thanked him, and watched as he sat back down across the table.

“I want to be very clear that I really have no interest in this,” Grigor began, “It was completely Peter’s idea.”

“Yes, Peter filled me in,” Viktoria replied, spooning some fruit onto her plate. “He’s involved with your wife?”

Grigor sighed. “It’s complicated, the arrangement Peter and George and I have.”

“It seems so.” She cut into a tart with her fork.

“I love George, and she’s as against this as I am.”

Viktoria put down her fork and looked at Grigor. “Look, I’m sure your wife is lovely, but I don’t have time to feel guilty and neither do you.”

He looked as though he were about to argue.

“All I’m saying is, don’t hold back because of George. She certainly isn’t giving you the same courtesy.”

She took a bite of the tart.

“At the end of the day, I won’t be offended if you don’t want me.” She gave him a suggestive grin. “Although, I can’t say I won’t be disappointed.”

Grigor knew she was right. Screw Peter for choosing so well. George was not going to be happy about this. Then again, he technically wasn’t doing anything wrong as long as he and Viktoria weren’t engaging in any promiscuous activities. Grigor took a sip of water, then decided to ask, “Would you care for a stroll in the gardens after breakfast?”

Viktoria smiled. “Sounds lovely.”


	2. She's Out of Her Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grigor warms to the idea of a mistress. Well, as long as it's Viktoria.

The air was humid as Grigor and Viktoria left the palace for a tour of the gardens.

“So, what is it like being best friend to the emperor?” Viktoria asked Grigor as the pair got onto the path.

“Entertaining,” he answered. “He’s exhausting at times, but we’ve known each other since we were children.”

She hummed.

“Sometimes it’s hard though, feeling like I’m living in his shadow. I mean fuck, he’s the emperor, but like with George…” His voice trailed off. Viktoria gave him a small empathetic smile.

They came upon the court ladies throwing balls on the lawn; among the group was George, Tatyana, Lady Svenska, and- shit. Dasha was there too.

Viktoria leaned over to Grigor and subtly pointed. “See her? That’s my twin sister Dasha,” she whispered. “She was always the perfect one growing up.”

The ladies of the lawn balls had noticed the two and engaged in some whispering of their own. Lady Svenska snickered as she shot them an odd look. Dasha looked quite pleased with the supposed joke she had told Lady Svenska. Tatyana, who was particularly friendly with Viktoria gave her a quick wave and a daft smile. George pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at Grigor.

Viktoria smiled and waved to the group, then continued to walk; a flustered Grigor in tow.

“I understand you, you know,” she told him, “Dasha’s my Peter.” They came upon a notably lovely cluster of hydrangeas.

“How do you manage her?” Grigor asked, taking a seat on a stone bench.

“Well enough,” Viktoria replied, and sat down next to him. “I fit in with the court alright. Not that it matters to me that much. They’re a pretty dull lot.”

Grigor snorted. “Especially Lady Svenska,” he added.

“No, she’s just a bitch.”

The pair began to laugh.

“Fuck, it’s hot out here,” Viktoria complained.

Grigor passively agreed.

Suddenly, Viktoria got an idea. She had spotted a large fountain not too far from where they were sitting. She rose from the bench and asked, “Care for a swim, Grigor?”

All he could utter was a surprised “What?” before she had taken off towards the fountain; giggling, and gesturing for him to follow her. When he caught up with her, she was kicking off her shoes and stockings as she sat on the fountain’s edge. He watched dumbfounded as she pulled up her skirts and stepped into the fountain.

“C’mon, Grigor,” she said in a sing-song voice, “the water’s fine.”

He raised his eyebrows with doubt. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I might be,” Viktoria said with a grin. She dropped her skirts and held out a hand. “Let loose a little, you know you want to.”

Grigor rolled his eyes and let out a breath as if to say, ‘why not’. He too removed his shoes and stockings and joined Viktoria in the water, which was almost up to his knees. Grigor followed Viktoria farther into the fountain, watching her kick up the water as she walked.

“Hmm. I’m still quite hot,” Viktoria declared. “Perhaps we’re not wet enough.”

She turned around and splashed him with water, soaking his shirt and waistcoat. He gawked at her for a second before returning the favour. The two began a water fight; dousing each other thoroughly in water and playful insults as they burst into laughter. Unexpectedly, Grigor, after receiving a particularly vigorous splash from Viktoria, pushed her backwards into the water. When she emerged, hair fully drenched, she exclaimed “asshole!”, and caught Grigor’s wrist, dragging him down with her. His expression turned from half sorry and half dying of laughter to fully surprised.

Sitting up from where he had fallen, Grigor spit out a mouthful of fountain water and looked over at a giddy Viktoria.

“Quite a solution to a hot day,” he said.

She smirked. “You had fun though, didn’t you?”

“I suppose I did.” He looked at her disheveled state; hair mussed and damp, gown soaked with water. “I hope your dress isn’t too ruined.”

She shrugged. “It’s quite old. And besides, it’s Dasha’s, not mine.”

They shared a chuckle before Grigor stood up. Offering Viktoria a hand, he asked, “Should we return to the palace for a drink?”

“Excellent idea, Count Dymov,” she replied, an air of jest with her use of his proper title.

* * *

On the way to the Dymov parlour, the pair were stopped by Orlo, who gave them a weird look and informed Grigor that Peter had summoned him.

“Would you mind escorting her to my parlour?” Grigor asked Orlo. He then turned to Viktoria and said, “I’ll meet you there once I’m finished with Peter.”

They then took off down the hall in opposite directions, Grigor wondering why Peter had requested him.

When he entered Peter’s chambers, he was greeted by the man, who was wearing a fur robe. “Grigor, my man,” Peter greeted him. He then noticed that Grigor was quite drenched. “Why the hell are you soaking wet?”

“We went for a swim,” Grigor replied, “In the fountain.”

Peter’s expression of confusion faded into an amused smile. “A swim in the fountain with your clothes on? How whimsical.”

Grigor gave a small chuckle.

“Get her wet on the first date, huh?” Peter said, giving Grigor a lighthearted punch in the arm. “Sounds like something I would do.”

Grigor smiled. “Why did you call for me?”

“I simply wanted to know how you were liking her,” said Peter, sitting down on a chaise lounge. “But your eagerness to get back to her is answer enough.”

Grigor rolled his eyes. Sure he liked her, that didn’t mean he wanted to fuck her. Well, he didn’t not want to fuck her. Ugh.

“Go on,” said Peter nodding at the door. As Grigor exited the room, Peter called after him, “How long until you fuck her?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Grigor shouted back.

* * *

Viktoria stopped dead in the entrance of the Dymov parlour when she spotted George, Lady Svenska, Dasha, and Tatyana seated on the assorted chaises and armchairs.

“Viktoria!” Tatyana exclaimed, the rest of the ladies directed their attention to the door.

“Hello, Tatyana,” Viktoria said with a polite smile, “George, Antonia, Dasha.” She nodded to each of them. She opened her mouth to explain her circumstance of being there and turned to her right, only to discover that Orlo had abandoned her. Coward.

“You look like a mess,” said Dasha. George and Lady Svenska snickered. “Is it true that you were recently appointed as Grigor’s mistress by Emperor Peter?” she asked. Her tone was sickeningly sweet.

Viktoria let out a breath. “Yes.”

“And you’re here for him now?” questioned Lady Svenska.

Viktoria timidly answered affirmatively. Despite her indifferent attitude towards the ladies of the court, she was quite embarrassed.

“Couldn’t snag your own husband so you had to steal mine?” said George bitterly. Her resentful stare was burning.

Viktoria pressed her lips together as she thought of a snappy reply. The ladies glowered at her cruelly. Tatyana averted her eyes and remained sheepishly silent.

“Grigor’s a good guy,” she told George, moving closer to where the group was sitting. “He deserves someone’s full attention.” George looked almost offended as she furrowed her brow. “He’s so afraid of hurting you while you don’t seem to care about how he feels when you fuck Emperor Peter.” George stiffened, and the other ladies looked considerably uncomfortable. Viktoria continued, “I don’t mean to steal him away from you, George. In fact, I would like us to continue to be friends. Consider if you will, that I might be good for him.”

George’s expression softened only slightly. That moment, Grigor entered the room. George immediately stood, followed by the other ladies. “Ah, Grigor,” she said, “We were just leaving.”

She headed for the door, giving Grigor a kiss on the cheek as she passed him. George looked back at Viktoria and gave her a look that said ‘we’ll continue this conversation later’. The doors closed behind the ladies, and Viktoria and Grigor were left in the parlour alone.

“I see you found the parlour,” he said.

“Yes.”

Grigor moved to sit down on one of the chaises. Viktoria sat down as well. “I apologize for George,” he said. “She has made her disapproval of this very clear.”

“Don’t apologize. I can imagine how she feels.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I’ve asked Boris to bring us some vodka.”

“Lovely.”

The air was still tense after the ladies had left. Not too much later, Boris entered with the vodka.

“Keep it coming, Boris,” said Viktoria, “Both of us need to get drunk.”

Grigor chuckled. Maybe this whole mistress thing wouldn’t be too bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I'm having so much fun writing these. Stay tuned! <3
> 
> \- LadyStrallan :)


	3. Another Girl, Another Planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grigor spends some time with George and Viktoria.

Grigor woke up that morning, noticing that George had snuck in to bed after he had fallen asleep. He turned onto his side to face her sleeping form. Fuck. She still smelled like Peter. At least she hadn’t been left alone all night, when Grigor was with Viktoria. At least _he_ hadn’t been left to sit aside after convivial drinking wasn’t doing it for George and Peter and they decided to fuck right in front of him.

The more he contemplated it, the more comfortable he became with the idea of having a mistress. It wasn’t too outlandish, right? Lots of society men had them, so what was stopping Grigor from having a lover of his own? Oh right. She was sleeping right next to him.

George stirred slightly beside him, and Grigor wondered if he had been thinking out loud. Hopefully not. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled at him sleepily. “Good morning,” she sighed, closing her eyes and stretching her arms above her head.

“Good morning,” he said back, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. He sat up and leaned back on the bed’s headboard. George did the same, and rested her head on Grigor’s shoulder.

“How do you suppose we spend the morning in bed?” George asked, her voice was slightly muffled against his bed shirt. This was slightly odd, thought Grigor. Lately George had become so cold towards him. The flame of their love had began to dwindle, and they were no longer nearly as passionate as they used to be. God, he would give anything to be that in love again. Was this because of Viktoria? Even if it was, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “I’ll have Boris bring us some breakfast.”

He hummed. “That would be nice.”

“Although,” said George, moving from her reclined position, “I think breakfast can wait.”She climbed into his lap and held his face in her hands, kissing him fully on the lips. He kissed her back and felt her tongue slip into his mouth for an instant, before her kisses moved to his jawline and down his neck. He twined his fingers in her long brown hair.

George had gone back to kissing his lips when Boris entered the room. He looked quite flustered by the scene he had walked in on, but he delivered his message still. “Your presence has been requested by Emperor Peter, Madam Dymov.”

“Of course,” said George, slipping out of bed with no haste and pulling on a silk robe. She gave Grigor an apologetic look and an “I’ll be back for lunch” before she left the room; doors closed by Boris behind her.

Grigor laid his head back on the headboard. Fuck.

* * *

Grigor strode down the hall towards somewhere he knew he could spend an enjoyable morning. Viktoria’s chambers. She had given him directions last night, but the particulars had been fogged by the vodka. At his brisk pace, he reached what he was almost certain were her apartments. He knocked on the pale blue doors and waited to be allowed entry.

A lanky red-haired serf answered the door; Viktoria’s girl most likely.

“I am, um, here for Viktoria,” said Grigor, hoping that he was in the right place.

The doe-eyed girl nodded, and replied, “Wait in the parlour, I’ll go and fetch her.”

Grigor followed Viktoria’s girl into the parlour, and he took in the space. There was lots of brocade. Almost everything was a shade of pink or crimson. He sat down on in an armchair by the brick fireplace. Many book cases lined the walls. Viktoria didn’t strike him as the bookish type. Perhaps she would get along with Catherine. He noticed that once closed, the door he had entered through was painted blood red; a quite stark contrast to its sky-coloured exterior. This was perhaps a metaphor of Viktoria herself. She, on the outside was a delicate, yet striking beauty, but on the inside she held her boisterous personality and mad charm.

“Your name was?” the serf asked.

It took him a moment before he answered, “Grigor Dymov.” It was not often someone did not know him. The girl left through a door opposite the main one, and entered into what was probably the bedroom. Grigor listened to the muffled conversation through the wall.

“My lady,” said the servant.

Grigor heard a groan. “What is it, Klara?” It had come from Viktoria.

“Grigor Dymov is here to see you.”

“Oh!” Viktoria exclaimed. Grigor couldn’t decide if she sounded excited or peeved. “Send him in at once.”

The door opened again, and Klara gestured for Grigor to enter. The bedroom was quite well decorated also. Same colour scheme as the parlour. Viktoria was standing near the bed in a scarlet robe, her light blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back. It looked rather nice like this, Grigor thought.

“Thank you, Klara,” Viktoria said to the girl, “You may go.” Klara gave a quick curtsey, and exited the room.

“I apologize for my current state,” she told Grigor, gesturing to her robe. “I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting anyone this early.”

“Do not apologize,” he said with a slight smile. “It was an impromptu visit anyways.”

“Any reason?” she asked.

He moved closer to her spot by the bed. Grigor thought about telling her about George, about this rift that had formed between the two of them. “No,” he replied, “I just wanted to see you.”

“How sweet. Though, I am sort of mad at you.”

Grigor furrowed his brow. For what reason?

“I was having a really good dream.”

He laughed. She smiled.

“Have you no business with George?” she asked him. If she was to stay on good terms with everyone in this arrangement, that would mean not stealing Grigor away during George’s time with him.

“No. She’s actually attending to Emperor Peter’s business.”

She snorted at his joke.

“If you’ll give me a moment to dress, we can grab some breakfast.”

Grigor smiled and replied, “That would be wonderful.”

* * *

This had become a pattern in the days following; Grigor would wake to George, then breakfast with Viktoria, spend the day with George, and the evening with Viktoria. Everything with George felt very proper. With Viktoria, there was no expectations, no limit to what they could get up to. This excited Grigor, and he would look more and more forward to their time together with every passing day.

On one particular evening, Grigor and Viktoria retired to drink in her chambers after a lavish party with the court. They were both already quite tipsy, yet Viktoria went over to a side table to pour them each some vodka out of a fancy glass decanter. Even with the abundance of seating the parlour offered, both opted to sit on the floor.

Viktoria placed both glasses and the decanter in front of them. “Let’s play truth or dare.”

“God, I haven’t played that in forever,” said Grigor, reminiscing about how he would play the same game with George and Peter as children.

She downed her shot of vodka. “I’ll go first.” She took in a deep breath. “Alright, truth or dare.”

“Dare,” he answered.

She gave him his task as if she had had it already planned. “Drink a shot out of your shoe.”

Grigor laughed and cringed at the same time. He removed his shoe, and poured in the contents of his glass. Viktoria giggled in anticipation as she watched him put the shoe to his lips. He drank the shot, and put back on his now damp shoe.

He wrinkled his nose from the taste of the shoe-vodka. “My turn.” Grigor looked at Viktoria straight in the eyes. She took another shot as he asked, “Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

Viktoria speculated what Grigor would dare her to do. Would it be something gross? Something embarrassing? Maybe it would be gross _and_ embarrassing. She truly did not expect him to say, “Kiss me.”

Viktoria’s eyes widened with shock and excitement. Grigor opening himself up to her in this way was unexpected. She pushed herself up on her hand and kissed his lips. Eyes closed, she savoured the taste of his alcohol drenched mouth.

Grigor was surprised with how little haste Viktoria completed her dare. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and entwined his fingers in her curls; the style coming undone. Her blonde tresses fell messily. He half expected her to break away; the dare was completed, was it not? Instead, she threw her arms around his neck, and softened into his embrace.

When Grigor moved from kissing Viktoria’s lips to peppering kisses down her neck, she whispered, “Took you long enough.”

Grigor chuckled, his laughter vibrating against Viktoria’s neck. He soon went back to kissing her lips, noticing how she slipped her tongue into his mouth every so often. He decided to do the same, and a soft moan escaped her. Grigor pulled Viktoria into his lap, her lithe legs wrapping around his back. Then, she was kissing his neck, and fussing with his shirt. Grigor noticed this, and pulled it off over his head, exposing his muscular chest.

Viktoria’s eyes glittered as she took in his frame. Fuck, he was hot. She seized his face with both hands and pulled him into another kiss. He broke away with a slight gasp, then quickly busied himself with pressing a kiss to her collarbone, and then to the tops of he breasts. She tossed her head backwards and raked her nails across his bare back.

They returned to each others lips for a final drawn out kiss. When the kiss had concluded, they looked into each others’ eyes, still drunk with passion as well as vodka. Viktoria beamed at Grigor. “You should probably go now.” She rolled off of him gracefully.

“Right,” he said, beaming back.

“Come here, to my apartments, tomorrow evening,” she told him, her lustful eyes revealing her intentions.

“Of course.” He rose from the floor. Grigor took Viktoria’s hand and placed a kiss on the top of it. He then exited through the big red doors and headed for his own apartments.

Viktoria stood and then slumped in a nearby arm chair. Tomorrow evening couldn’t come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting a little steamy <3 Next chapter coming soon!
> 
> \- LadyStrallan :)


	4. The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just skip to the fucking” - Emperor Peter III, probably.

“Fuck,” grunted Peter after he missed a crucial hit, ceding the lead to Grigor. The two were in the middle of their weekly wall ball game. Grigor laughed triumphantly. “I’ve had enough of this game,” whined Peter.

Grigor looked at him; the ball had been abandoned. “You’re just saying that because you’re losing.”

“Am not,” argued Peter. He decided to change the subject, “So,” he crooned, “How’s Viktoria?”

“Fine,” replied Grigor. He smiled at the thought of her. He let out a breath of excitement. “We made out last night.”

“That’s all?”

“Well,” Grigor added, “she asked me to meet her. Tonight.”

Peter smirked at his friend. “I’m proud of you, Grigor,” he said. “Imagine how many more people would be happy if they just accepted that I am always right.”

“All of Russia,” suggested Grigor.

“Indeed.”

“Do me a favour though,” Grigor asked Peter, “Keep George busy. I’d hate to make her feel neglected.”

Peter chuckled. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” He sighed with contentment. “How lucky we are, to be fucking beautiful women.”

Grigor nodded. The situation wasn’t ideal; he still loved George, and they _were_ married, but now he was starting to fall for Viktoria. It was what it was. He added a semi-enthusiastic “Huzzah”, which Peter returned with extra vigour.

* * *

Viktoria chatted eagerly with Tatyana at the ladies’ tea that afternoon. “How was it?” Tatyana asked, eager to hear every detail.

“He’s a very good kisser,” replied Viktoria, “we only went as far as that.”

Tatyana looked somewhat disappointed. “Shame.”

“I did ask him to meet me tonight,” Viktoria added.

An excited grin spread over Tatyana’s face and she nearly squealed. “Arkady and I hardly have any excitement in bed anymore,” she complained. “Oh, well. I guess I’ll just have to live vicariously through you.”

The two shared a laugh.

* * *

That evening, Viktoria waited for Grigor in her bedroom. When he entered, she stood from the chaise she had been draped on. Both smiled demurely as they met eyes. Viktoria wore only a peach coloured silk robe, while Grigor was dressed rather completely.

“You look very lovely with your hair down,” He said.

She blushed, and came closer to him. “I was looking forward to this all day,” she said, smoothing her hands over his shirt. “And last night.”

“As was I,” replied Grigor, his voice became soft.

He leaned in and kissed her; lightly at first, but soon increasing in fervour. Her thumbs caressed his cheeks, and his hands tangled themselves in her hair. She slipped her tongue into his mouth. He tasted good; salty and alcoholic.

Gently biting her bottom lip, Grigor broke away, only to begin kissing her neck. Viktoria tossed her head back and sighed into his kiss. He sucked on her jugular, hands moving to her waist. She placed a hand idly on the back of his neck, the other finding the curve of his back. Grigor straightened to his full height from where he had been bent over Viktoria’s neck. The two maintained lustful eye contact as she removed his shirt, almost gasping at the sight of him.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, “Because if we go too far, there’s no going back.”

Grigor replied with a soft smile. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With those words, Viktoria pulled the tie of her robe and pushed it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. She was truly a sight to behold. Grigor’s lips parted, chest rising and falling heavily.

She leapt into his arms, straddling his hips and linking her ankles behind his back. They began to kiss again, mad with passion; neither were holding back any longer. One of Grigor’s hands grasped her thigh, supporting her, while his other hand found the small of her back, pressing her body closer to his. It was a strange sensation; her bare skin against his leather pants.

“Shall we move to the bed?” Viktoria managed to gasp out.

“Lovely idea.” Grigor carried her over to her bed, his lips still entwined with hers.

Viktoria stretched out on the bed, Grigor over her admired her pale, naked beauty. He descended over her, planting kisses on her collarbone, then her breasts, taking a moment to trace circles around her nipples with his tongue. His caresses travelled lower, and he parted her legs. Grigor gave a small birthmark on her inner thigh a final kiss.

Viktoria let out a moan, which increased in volume as Grigor’s tongue met her eager cunt. He licked and sucked at her, tasting her wetness and watching her writhe under him, her mouth agape. He began to tease her clit, and within moments, this pushed her over the edge. Viktoria came with a vulgar moan, followed by several gasps as she put herself back together.

And then, they were flipped; Viktoria straddling Grigor, her lips and tongue all over his muscular chest, and her cum smearing on his pants. She could feel his massive cock hard and throbbing beneath her, so she began to grind on him over his pants. Grigor had wrenched his eyes shut, his hands grasping at Viktoria’s back. He was nearly begging to be properly touched. She unbuttoned his pants and slid them down to his knees. She began at the bottom, slowly licking her way to the tip of his cock. She felt him shudder as she took him into her mouth and began to suck; cheeks hollowing. Gradually, she took more of his cock into her mouth, and soon felt his cum seep into her throat.

Grigor had been thoroughly pleasured; he was gasping for air as if he had nearly drowned. Viktoria moved back to his lips, kissing him lasciviously. He fondled her breasts, swallowing all of her little gasps and moans. He took her by her waist, and placed her down on the bed. They shared another drawn out kiss, as Grigor’s palm slid up against Viktoria’s thigh. His cock was already hard again. She spread her legs wider as he lined up at her entrance. Without much haste he thrust into her with a grunt. She gasped as she adjusted to his impressive cock stretching out her cunt. He placed his hands on either side of her head, kissing her deeply as he thrust at a greater pace. Viktoria’s mouth fell open, and she cried out his name. Her nails raked across his back.

“Lovely,” Grigor mumbled, “You look lovely, you feel-“ he moaned. Both were nearly at their peak. With a final thrust hitting just the right place, Viktoria orgasmed, and Grigor followed soon after, feeling her cunt clench around his cock. They shared a last kiss, before he pulled out of her, and laid down beside her. They were both breathing quite heavily.

“That was-“

“Lovely,” Viktoria finished, and the two smiled at each other. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Shouldn’t you go back to your apartments? To George?”

“No,” replied Grigor, “I’ve asked Peter to take care of her.”

“Oh.”

Viktoria leaned her head against Grigor’s chest, and soon they fell asleep in each other’s embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a steamy chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it. Sorry it was a bit short, there will be lots of drama in the next chapter. <3
> 
> \- LadyStrallan :)


	5. Reckless Abandon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George confronts Viktoria.

“I have a confession to make,” giggled Viktoria. She and Grigor lay on the grass and stared up at the sky. She struggled to get out a sentence as she cracked up. She took an animatedly exaggerated breath as she composed herself. “Sometimes, when I travel, like go into the city-” She snorted, and shook with silent laughter.

Grigor gave a confused smile. “I won’t know what’s so funny unless you tell me.”

She straightened her face. “I pretend to be a prostitute to fuck handsome men.” She turned her head to look at him, waiting for him to laugh. After an awkward moment of processing, Grigor did indeed burst into laughter.

“That’s fucked.”

“I know,” Viktoria replied with a jovial smile. “But it was a good time, and it made me a couple thousand rubles.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re absolutely bonkers,” He told her, turning his head to look into her eyes. Lovely eyes. Aquamarine with a splash of yellow around the pupil.

“That’s what makes me interesting.”

There was a lull in the conversation, and both returned their gaze to the partly-cloudy sky.

“Have you ever been in love before?” Grigor asked her suddenly.

She pondered the question for a moment before answering, “No. Not truly.” She turned her head to look at him again. “And you? George, obviously.”

“Of course.” Grigor smiled sadly. “So,” he began, attempting to bring up a topic that had not yet been discussed, “Last night.”

“What about it?” Fuck. Did he regret it?

“You were…” He searched for the right word. “Perfect.”

Viktoria blushed. “As were you.” The moment was becoming too awkward, too mushy. Viktoria decided to crack a joke. “You know, I bet you’re a better fuck than Emperor Peter.”

The two broke into a fit of laughter.

Grigor sat up from the ground. “I should probably get back, George is expecting me,” he said.

Viktoria sat up too. “Of course.”

“I’ll see you at the party this evening?”

“You bet you will,” she replied and gave him a dazzling smile.

A quick goodbye was said by each. Victoria lay back down.

* * *

The party that evening was more or less a typical party in the court of Peter. There was drinking, and gossip, and of course, lots and lots of vodka. Nonetheless, this evening was full of extra excitement for Viktoria. She now had someone to smile at from across the room, or make brief lustful eye contact with. Grigor did look very nice this evening. Viktoria stood chatting with Tatyana, who was very excited to hear how last night went.

“You fucked him?” she asked eagerly.

Viktoria replied sarcastically to Tatyana’s meaningless question. “Well we weren’t playing Boston.”

Tatyana giggled, her nose scrunching up.

“And it was pleasant?”

Viktoria sighed. “It was more than pleasant. It was…“ she remembered that word Grigor himself had used. “Perfect.”

She looked over to where Grigor stood, holding a drink. Strangely, George was not at his side. Instead, she was having something whispered to her by Emperor Peter. She looked back to Tatyana. They continued to chatter of regular things, like ‘was Boris feeling better’, and ‘I wasn’t fond of the dessert this evening’. Then, the two were approached by none other than George.

“Hello, George,” said Viktoria.

“Good evening, ladies,” the woman replied. She wore a smile which was hard to decipher as genuine. “I apologize, Tatyana, but I need to speak to Viktoria.”

George gestured for Viktoria to follow her as she headed for the door. Viktoria noticed that George was wearing a deep green gown instead of her usual crimson tones. Interesting. She followed George into the hall, where the woman’s expression turned standoffish.

“I heard what you and my husband were doing last night,” she said.

Who had told her? Viktoria wondered. Probably Peter.

“Don’t even think of trying to steal him away from me.”

“I have no intention of that, George,” Viktoria assured her. She tried to stay collected. “Emperor Peter appointed me as his lover, so technically it’s my job.”

George huffed. “Don’t be smart with me.”

“Think of Grigor in this,” Viktoria began, “I only want him to be happy. If you truly loved him you’d-“

“You have no idea about mine and Grigor’s relationship,” George snapped; she was fuming with enmity. “You slut!”

The sound of the slap echoed through the hall. A few servants had stopped to see what was going on. Some of the people in the adjacent room whispered concernedly. Viktoria held a hand to her throbbing cheek. George glowered at her.

“That’s risible coming from the Emperor’s whore,” Viktoria shot back. George grimaced, before she watched Viktoria turn and stomp back to her apartments.

* * *

Grigor stood with George on the side of the ballroom. “I’m going to go grab a drink,” she announced.

“Alright,” he replied, and continued to watch the dancing. A moment later, out of the corner of his eye, he could see George with Peter. He was whispering something into her ear. What had he told her? Probably something dirty. He was always doing that. Grigor didn’t think much of it.

She walked away from Peter, but instead of returning to Grigor, she headed for Viktoria. Grigor watched a short exchange take place before George led her out into the hall. This was strange, thought Grigor. What business did George have with Viktoria in the hall? Usually when George went with someone into the hall she fucked them. Grigor didn’t think that was the case this time. Though, it wasn’t entirely impossible for Viktoria to fuck a woman, given how well liked she was by Peter’s Aunt Elizabeth.

Some muffled shouting could be heard coming from outside the ballroom. Grigor moved closer towards the door. Then, a smacking noise, again muffled. Some of the men and women chattered about the suspicious sound. Grigor decided to investigate.

* * *

Upon entering her bedroom, Viktoria sat down at her vanity. She pressed her fingers to her temples and gritted her teeth. She regretted being so sharp to George. Then again, it was George that had started the confrontation. She went to lie down on her bed. She shut her eyes tight, feeling a hot tear slide down the side of her face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> \- LadyStrallan :)


	6. Don't Leave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t want you seeing her anymore.”

Grigor stepped into the hall to find George standing tensed, and watching a woman stalk down the hall in the opposite direction. Viktoria. He looked at George. “What happened?”

“I don’t want you seeing her anymore,” said George coldly. She bit her lip.

Grigor was confused. What had happened? “George-“

“Please,” she interjected, “for me.”

He nodded slowly, putting an arm around her shoulders. He decided that the only way that he would find out what happened, is if he talked to Viktoria.

“I need to talk to her.” George looked about to protest, so he quickly added, “To tell her it’s over.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She gave him a small kiss.

“Go to Peter,” he told her after they broke away.

They both turned and began travelling in their respective directions.

“Grigor,” George’s voice called from behind. He looked back at her, her hurt gaze burning into his eyes. “She called me a whore.”

With that word, George disappeared back into the ballroom. Back to Peter. Grigor continued to Viktoria’s apartments.

* * *

“Viktoria? Grigor Dymov is here for you.”

Viktoria looked up at Klara, giving the serf a small nod. “Let him in,” she said, her voice slightly breaking.

Klara, guided Grigor into the room, before she herself exited. Viktoria’s eyes were red, Grigor noticed. Her face was a bit splotchy as well.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, wiping the corner of her eye and sniffling.

“What happened with George?” he asked plainly. He couldn’t help but feel troubled at the sight of her upset.

“Grigor, she knows.” She stood from where she sat on the bed and took a step towards him. “About last night, and-“

“You called her a whore.” It hurt him, truly it did, that his wife had been called a whore. The pain was worse considering that it had been Viktoria that said it.

“Yes but-“ She tried to explain the whole situation but he interrupted before she could.

“You actually did it,” he said. He was in disbelief. Subtly, he was hoping that George had made it up out of jealousy. But, it was true.

“Grigor.” That was all she could think of saying, seeing the hurt look in his eyes.

“I came to tell you that I can’t do this anymore.”

Her eyes widened with shock. “What?”

He struggled to say, “We’re over.”

“I can’t believe this,” Viktoria ranted, “I have been nothing but kind to George. She found out about last night, and she confronted me about it. She called me a slut, and-“ She bit her lip, and turned her head to show a red mark on her cheek that was almost bruising. Grigor’s lips parted and his brow furrowed. “That was when I snapped and called her Peter’s whore.”

Grigor was conflicted and confused. He was upset at both Viktoria and George. It seemed like Viktoria was telling him the whole story, but, “George hit you?” She took a deep breath and nodded. He stepped towards her, instinctively reaching out towards her face. “She would never,” he mumbled to himself.

Unfortunately, this was not taken well by Viktoria. “You think I’m lying?”

“I never said-“

“Why do you have such loyalty to her?” At this point, Viktoria was very upset. “No matter how hard you try, she will always choose Peter over you!” How could he not see this? Sure he loved her, but he was constantly making excuses for her.

Grigor huffed and tangled his hands in his hair. “Why did I agree to this? Now everything’s so fucking complicated.”

“ _Love_ is complicated,” said Viktoria.

Love. Fuck, why did she have to bring up love? He looked and looked at her, and he saw someone that, fuck, he loved. “God, I really wish I hated you!” he blurted. Truly, he wasn’t thinking.

“I’m sure that sounded different in your head, but please, never say that again.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. Viktoria exhaled sharply. She had balled her hands into fists. “You know what? You’re right. Maybe this isn’t working.” Instead of angry, her voice was cold.

“Viktoria, I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t mean- I just wish we could have a normal situation, that’s all.“ Her teeth were clenched together as her eyes began to well with tears. “Don’t let our future be destroyed by my past.”

She took a shaky breath, and looked him straight in the eyes. “Don’t let my door hit your ass,” she spat.

“Viktoria-“

“Klara,” she shouted to the other room, “Count Dymov is leaving.”

The doors opened, and Klara gestured for Grigor’s exit. His eyes met Viktoria’s; pain meeting pain. With nothing to say, he turned and left the room, and then her apartments altogether.

“Is everything alright?” Klara asked Viktoria, noticing her state.

“No,” she replied bluntly. “I’ll have a bath, please.”

The girl nodded, and promptly began to carry out her request.

* * *

Grigor returned to the party after leaving Viktoria’s chambers. He was left to find that George and Peter were no longer present, so he decided to check if they were waiting for him in Peter’s chambers. Upon arrival, he found that they were in fact there, but they were definitely not waiting for him. Fuck. He almost wanted to scream it out into the universe. But, like everything else, he didn’t for George and Peter’s sake.

Instead, he returned to his own apartments, intent on drowning himself in vodka to wash away the heartache.

* * *

Sitting in her bath, Viktoria sobbed. What a fool she was for thinking that this could work; that she could continue to be friendly with George while fucking her husband. It worked for her and Grigor and Peter, didn’t it?

How stupid of her to fall in love with a married man, someone she could never fully be with. Fuck. She loved him. But, there will always be George, and there will always be problems with the arrangement. She sank into the water, submerging her head with the rest of her body. She reminded herself that in life you choose things and you lose things. Grigor had George, and Viktoria needed someone. She needed to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! How will Grigor and Viktoria come back from this? Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and stay tuned! <3
> 
> \- LadyStrallan :)


	7. Man Overboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooding is what Grigor does best.

Grigor stared at Viktoria across the ballroom longingly. It had been almost a week since they had fought, ultimately deciding to end their relationship. The woman in question was sitting with Tatyana, Arkady, and three other men; downing shots of vodka, and laughing obnoxiously at everything the men said.

It seemed that it had been no trouble to move on from Grigor. After all, their affair had been short lived. Where Grigor had let his appearance grow unkempt, Viktoria was as glowing as ever. Fuck her and her flattering dresses. Really, that was all he wanted to do. If he had to admit it, he did miss her.

It didn’t help that most of the time, George was still with Peter. Couldn’t she just detach herself from his cock for one fucking week to help Grigor get over Viktoria? Speak of the devil, George tapped Grigor’s shoulder.

“I know you miss her,” she said. Her voice wasn’t as accusatory as he’d thought it would be.

“What? No, I don’t miss her,” he denied.

Her hand slipped from his shoulder to his hand, and she began to lead him into the hall. The two retired to a small parlour not too far from the ballroom they had come from. The door hadn’t even closed before George’s lips were on Grigor’s.

“When I’m done with you, you’ll have forgotten all about her,” George whispered into his ear. She then moved to sucking his neck, hard enough to bruise. His arms finally got over the confusion and wrapped around her waist. The whole thing was a blur; George’s lips were on his, then they were on his bare chest. Apparently, his shirt had been discarded. By the time George had finished, Grigor had not, in fact, forgotten Viktoria.

* * *

Viktoria sighed as she opened another shoebox. While she was perusing new shoes, hats, and dresses with Tatyana, she watched Grigor and George chat and giggle across the room.

“Pink or yellow?” asked Tatyana, switching the hats back and forth on her head.

“Yellow,” said Viktoria, her gaze was still on Grigor. “I’ll take the pink.”

Tatyana frowned. She had noticed Viktoria wasn’t quite present. “Are you alright?” she asked, “Is it about Grigor?”

Viktoria shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“I hope so,” replied Tatyana. “So, more hats, or more shoes?”

Viktoria chuckled. “Both.”

The two spent the rest of the afternoon trying on shoes and hats, and picking out dress fabrics. This was how she decided to cope with breaking up with Grigor; shoes, and hats, and vodka, and clothes, and men, and women, and more vodka. Even though those things were fun, she couldn’t help but wish for him to be there.

It seemed like George had become more affectionate in the days following Viktoria’s fight with Grigor. She was always on his arm, she kissed him more. This was all he ever wanted, wasn’t it? Maybe Viktoria and Grigor just weren’t meant to be. She continued stealing glances across the room to Grigor. Fuck him and his perfect jawline. God, wouldn’t that be nice.

* * *

It was fairly late at night when Grigor decided to go and see her. He could hear some members of the court still drinking and betting on games of cards as he walked down the hall, a fur robe covering his bedclothes. He didn’t bother to knock before carefully opening the door a crack, and peering inside the parlour. Empty. He continued into the room, closing the main door behind him. Klara had surely been dismissed, but hopefully Viktoria was still awake. Grigor gavea firm knock to the door.

Viktoria sat up from the bed. Who could it be at this hour? She pulled on a silk robe, and padded over to the door. “Who is it?”

The sound of her voice cheered Grigor. “It’s me, Grigor,” he said. He anxiously waited for her reply.

Grigor? Coming to her apartments at night? She reminded herself that she was supposed to be moving on. This arrangement could never work, so she needed to resist his charms. “Go away,” she responded coldly.

Grigor crumpled physically and emotionally. Maybe she was moving on. He couldn’t give up on her, not yet. “I need to talk to you.”

Alright, she should at least let him talk, that seems sensible. She pressed her cheek to the door and said, “Fine, go ahead.”

He took a deep breath, and collected himself before he poured his heart out for her. “I know that you’ve been having a great time since- since we decided to stop seeing each other, but I have missed you since I left your apartments.” That wasn’t true at all, thought Viktoria, she had been having a miserable time trying to fill the hole Grigor had left; in more ways than one. He continued, “I couldn’t quite express it before, but…” he leaned the side of his head to rest on the door. “I need you to save me from myself the way you used to. I don’t really like myself without you.” Viktoria was dumbfounded. Had he not rediscovered his undying love for George? Was she not fulfilling enough for him? “I hate that George came between us and I want to make things right. I understand that you might not want me anymore. But right now, I am here, telling you that I love you, Viktoria.”

He felt a slight movement in the door and recoiled from it. Surely enough, Viktoria had opened the door, and was now standing in front of him. Her eyes were wide and the corners of her lips twitched upwards. “I love you too.”

She stepped towards him, and knowing exactly what she intended, he opened his arms to her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and twining his other hand in her hair as she kissed him. When the kiss finally broke, their lips remained close. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she repeated against his lips, their foreheads leant together. She could feel him smile.

Her eyes narrowed as she developed a mischievous grin. “Wanna have make-up sex?”

Grigor’s mouth almost fell open. “That is a terrible, horrible, incredibly foolish idea,” he said. He then copied her expression. “Let’s do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I've had so much fun writing this <3
> 
> \- LadyStrallan :)


	8. Dammit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktoria and Grigor have make-up sex, and Viktoria plans to apologize to George.

It happened very quickly, lips crashing together, hands grasping blindly. Grigor and Viktoria stumbled into her bedroom, Grigor pressing Viktoria up against the door. His kisses were reckless, travelling anywhere he felt like in no pattern at all. When he found her mouth again, her tongue pressed into his persistently. One hand grasping his cheek as she kissed him, Viktoria dropped her other hand down to rub Grigor’s hard cock through his bedclothes. He groaned into her mouth. She moved her hand away, and Grigor almost thought she had changed her mind about the whole thing, but then she tore off his fur robe, and began to strip him of his bedclothes. He removed her robe, and pulled her in for another frenzied kiss. He hoisted her up against the door, her legs wrapping around his back. He kissed her for a moment, sighing “God, I’ve missed you,” before occupying himself with her breasts. He sucked each nipple as Viktoria moaned, clawing at his back with her nails. Their lips met once again, as Grigor began to press his cock into her. He was moving torturously slow, and Viktoria eagerly slammed her hips down so he was fully inside her. Grigor shuddered. Viktoria began to bounce herself on Grigor’s cock, and he simultaneously thrust up into her slick cunt. It was passionate, but not precise. Both moaned and occasionally kissed each other’s lips, gasping out “Fuck,” and “Harder,” and “I love you,” and “Just like that.” Grigor kept an arm around Viktoria’s waist, and used the other to rub her clit, eliciting a long high pitched moan from her. Their vulgar noises increased in volume as they continued, inching closer to orgasm. Grigor came with Viktoria’s name on his lips, and she followed him moments after, falling limply into his muscular arms. She could feel his chest rise and fall heavily. Grigor carried her over to the bed, gently setting her down on it. She curled up into his arms under the comfortable bedding.

* * *

The morning following, the two awoke tangled in each other’s limbs and Viktoria’s sheets. It took Grigor a moment to recollect the events from the night before. Even so, he didn’t regret a thing. Viktoria suggested that they dress and go for breakfast. Grigor agreed and picked up his discarded bedclothes from the floor; hastily redressing before setting off towards his own apartments.

Klara entered the bedroom as soon as she saw Grigor leave. “Good morning, miss,” said the serf.

“Good morning, indeed,” sighed Viktoria, stretching her arms over her head. Although she was completely undressed, there was hardly any modesty needed around Klara.

“You fixed things with Count Dymov?”

“Yes.”

“And you two…”

Viktoria chuckled at her maid’s bashfulness. “Yes, we fucked.” Klara blushed. “Help me pick out something nice to wear. Today is important.”

The girl began to sort through the various drawers. “Why so, miss?”

Viktoria took a confident breath. “I’m going to apologize to George.”

Klara had been filled in on the situation. In addition to being Viktoria’s girl, she was also a fantastic confidante.

Klara pulled two dresses; a sea foam green frock with plenty of cleavage, and a salmon coloured gown with mid-length sleeves. Viktoria decided on the former. A departure from her usual red and pink colour scheme would surely show George that she was open for change. She paired this with a simple black velvet choker and some pearl embellishments in her hair. Finally, she told Klara, “Fetch me some yellow roses. They are a symbol of forgiveness. I’m going to give them to George.”

Klara nodded and exited through a back entrance. Viktoria continued to the breakfast room.

* * *

Grigor entered the breakfast room to find Peter, shoving scrambled eggs and blueberries into his mouth. “Why did you tell George?” Grigor asked Peter coldly. He wasn’t necessarily mad at him; the situation had been resolved. Nevertheless, a whole mess could have been avoided if it weren’t for Peter’s blabbermouth.

Peter looked surprised at Grigor. “Come again?”

Grigor spelled it out even clearer, “Why did you tell George that Viktoria and I fucked?”

“Well _you_ told _me_ ,” he argued.

“I told that to you in confidence.” Grigor sounded exasperated. Peter only shrugged.Grigor began to pace the floor and explained to Peter what had happened. “George and Viktoria had an argument about it, George slapped Viktoria, Viktoria called George your whore-” Peter snorted. Grigor rolled his eyes at him. “Viktoria and I broke up for a week, and last night we made up.”

Peter raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Did you fuck her again?”

Grigor sighed. “ _Yes, we fucked again_.”

Peter smirked. “Huzzah. So everything’s fixed now.”

“Well, no,” explained Grigor, “George doesn’t know.” He sat down at the table. “About this time,” he added.

At that moment, Viktoria entered the room. Grigor smiled. “You look very nice in blue.”

She smiled back. “Good morning, gentlemen.” With that, she sat down beside Grigor. Noticing the absence of a specific person, she leaned over to Grigor and asked, “Will George be joining us this morning?”

Grigor was slightly confused by why she had asked, but replied, “Yes. She’s just fussing over her outfit a little more than usual.”

“Good,” said Viktoria, then eagerly told him, “I’m going to apologize to her.”

Grigor furrowed his brow but then nodded approvingly. He looked over for Peter to make some sort of comment, but the man was focused on his breakfast.

Soon Klara delivered the roses, and Viktoria and Grigor dug in to the various breakfast foods spread out on the table. Viktoria ate slowly, anticipating George’s entrance. It seemed like ages before George entered the room, with an expression that read half confused and half bitter when she saw Viktoria.

“Good morning, George,” Grigor was the first to say. Peter simply nodded with his cup of coffee and smiled.

Viktoria stood from her seat. “If you two don’t mind,” she said to the men. Peter looked annoyed, but Grigor gave him a stern look, causing Peter to follow him out the door. He brought his coffee with him.

“What do you want?” asked George, placing her hands on her hips. The situation had diffused after the week it had been, but George was still weary of Viktoria.

“I’m very sorry, George.” The woman looked taken aback. It seemed that she had not been expecting an apology. “It must’ve felt awful to find out from Peter, and not Grigor.” Viktoria took a deep breath and smiled softly at George. “From now on I think we should be honest with each other, and I think we should be friends.” George’s expression was calculated. Viktoria couldn’t predict how she was going to react. She picked up the vase of yellow roses from the table. “I got you these.”

“Yellow roses. For forgiveness.” The tone of George’s voice was flat, but she sounded impressed. George took the flowers and placed them on the table. “Thank you. I guess I misjudged you.”

Satisfied by this response, Viktoria made everything clear. “Grigor and I are going to continue seeing each other. We made up last night.” George’s expression faltered slightly, but she did not look upset; she simply nodded. Viktoria bit her lip. “I want us to be friends,” she reaffirmed. “We can gossip about Grigor, we can get matching hats, we can-“ she threw her hands up as if to say ‘whatever’.

It took a moment, but George returned Viktoria’s smile and said, “I would like that.” Viktoria beamed. Everything was finally working out. “Should we let them back in?” asked George, “Peter didn’t seem very happy to be kicked out.”

Viktoria giggled. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long! <3
> 
> \- LadyStrallan :)


	9. Give Me One Good Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktoria and George are outcast by the ladies of the court after a rumour is spread.

It had been a smooth week since Viktoria and George had reconciled. That was, until the two women noticed a strange atmosphere among the court whenever they were present. Perhaps it was due to their unusual arrangement with Grigor, but the stifled snickers and the offhand innuendos didn’t seem to match that interpretation.

One of those days, Viktoria and George had approached a group of ladies of the court; jabbering excitedly about some sort of plans. At the centre of the circle, and the helm of the conversation was of course Dasha and Lady Svenska.

“Hello, ladies,” said George, coolly entering the conversation. “What’s all the excitement about?”

“We’re all going out for an afternoon picnic!” Tatyana exclaimed. She strangely hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort to Viktoria. Dasha gave Tatyana a sideways glare.

“Oh, that sounds quite fun,” said Viktoria. “May we join you ladies?”

Lady Svenska’s eyes narrowed, as if she was a predator going in for the kill. “I’m sure you can have your own fun just the two of you.”

The other women chimed in with snickers and whispered comments. Tatyana’s giggle was half-hearted. Viktoria could tell that she wasn’t behind whatever Dasha and Lady Svenska were pulling, but she was too scared to go against the majority. All she could offer Viktoria was an apologetic look.

Dasha stood from the chaise that she, Lady Svenska, and Tatyana sat on. “Ladies,” she declared, “We should give these two some space.” Her tone was dripping with innuendo; she might as well have winked. “Besides, it’s almost time for our picnic.”

As the rest of the clique followed suit, Viktoria and George were left irked and confused. Hurrying to the door as the last of the ladies filed out, Viktoria caught Tatyana by the arm. The blonde gasped, but relaxed once she had seen who had stopped her.

“Oh. Viktoria.”

“What was all of that about?” Viktoria tried not to sound aggressive.

“All of what?” replied Tatyana coyly.

Viktoria sighed. “The snickering, the pointed comments…” She looked Tatyana straight in the eye, sensing that she was quite nervous. “What are they saying about George and me?”

Tatyana bit her lip. “Well…” She couldn’t quite make eye contact with Viktoria. “I don’t know how much truth there is to this…” Viktoria wished she would just spit it out. “It’s been going around the court that you two are sleeping together.”

“What?” George had made her way towards the door and had overheard what Tatyana had said.

“First of all, that’s not true,” clarified Viktoria. She glanced back at George who was wringing her hands. She stumbled over her words a bit, too taken aback by this rumour. “Who did you hear that from?”

“Well, _I_ heard it from Sofia Gorelova, but I’m certain _she_ heard it from someone else.”

Viktoria hummed, brow furrowed. It seemed like she truly didn’t know who was at the root of this gossip.

“ _Tatyana_ ,” called the sickly sweet voice of Antonia Svenska.

Tatyana straightened at the sound. “Coming!” she shouted back, before mouthing a quick “sorry,” to Viktoria and George, and hurrying out of the room.

* * *

Grigor reclined on a chaise in the Dymov chambers, waiting for George to return. He knew that she liked to socialize with the ladies of the court during the day, and she was likely with Viktoria. Grigor was glad that his two girls had reconciled, and that they had been getting along very well ever since. Recently however, he’d been given the idea that they were getting along _too_ well.

He was playing Boston with a group of men one evening, when one of the players (Count Smolny) nudged him in the arm. “Eh, Dymov.” He turned to the man. “Do they let you watch while they're at it?”

“Sorry?” Grigor didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t even entirely sure what he had meant.

Smolny simply chuckled. “You’re a lucky man, Dymov.” He downed a shot of vodka. “They’re pretty women.”

Grigor concluded that Smolny was very drunk, and he was speaking plain nonsense. Although, he had noticed the whispers at court. He had tried to push the thought out of his head, it probably wasn’t true. He hadn’t really considered anything until now.

He heard footsteps approaching the doors to his apartments, and could guess who they belonged to even before she burst into the room.

“You’ll never believe what just happened,” huffed George, in obvious disbelief. Being so close to Peter had its perks, one of which had been being one of the most influential ladies at court. Now, her power among the ladies was waning, which was definitely cause for worry.

“Ah, George,” said Grigor, “I need to ask you about something.” He gestured for George to come sit down beside him. “You go first.”

George smoothed her gown and took a breath before beginning. “Viktoria and I were turned away from a picnic with the other ladies.”

Grigor’s brow furrowed. “I thought you were quite popular with that crowd.”

“That’s exactly it,” she continued, “Viktoria was able to get it out of Tatyana that there’s some sort of rumour going around that Viktoria and I are sleeping together.”

“On a similar note,” said Grigor, who had been offered a perfect segue into his question. “I was going to ask you if these rumours had any truth to them-“

“Wait a minute,” interrupted George, “You knew? About the rumours?”

Quick to defend himself, Grigor refuted with “Not entirely. I was playing Boston a couple evenings ago and Count Smolny merely suggested-“

“And did you tell him it was false?” George had stood from the chaise and had her hands on her hips.

“Well, no. But-“ Grigor was fighting a losing battle, trying to explain the thoughts behind his actions to George.

“So you believed it?” She looked at him with disdain.

He moved to swiftly take her hands in his. “No, of course not. I simply wasn’t sure if it were true or not.”

George scoffed, sharply pulling her hands out of Grigor’s grasp. “I see how it is. You had no problem jumping to conclusions about me and Viktoria based on a silly little rumour, and you have so little trust in both of us that you believed we kept something like this from you.”

“George…” It was all he could think to say. It was apparent that nothing he said would make George understand his thought process. He _did_ trust both her and Viktoria. It was why he wanted to ask them directly to find out if what was going around the court was in fact true. And even if it was, he wouldn’t be mad at them. Of course he’d like to know if either of them were sleeping with other people; no matter their gender.

George’s hands were clenched at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms. An expression of frustration was on her face. “I’m going to find Viktoria. She needs to hear about… _this_.” She turned towards the door.

Grigor started after her. “George, wait-“

“I’ll see you at dinner.”

The double doors swung shut as George set off to Viktoria’s apartments.

* * *

“Lady Dymov is here to see you, my lady,” Viktoria heard Klara call from the parlour. She sat at her vanity, getting ready for tonight’s dinner.

“Thank you, Klara,” Viktoria called back. “She can come in.” Viktoria rose to go and greet George, noticing that she looked rather peeved. “Are you upset?” she asked, wondering if George thought she had something to do with the rumour.

“Yes,” said George, “but not at you.” Viktoria gestured for the two to return to the parlour, and George followed her over to a chaise before she elaborated. “It’s Grigor.”

Viktoria raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

“He asked me if the rumours were true or not.” She was wringing her hands, fighting the urge to stand up and pace. “Can you believe him?”

“If he was asking you about it, then he must’ve heard it from someone else,” said Viktoria.

“Yes, I believe he said it was Count Smolny.”

Viktoria was becoming more exasperated the more George revealed. “So he knew and didn’t mention anything to either of us?” She had balled her hands into fists in her lap.

“Exactly. And he seemed to have the idea that we wouldn’t tell him if something like this were true.”

Viktoria furrowed her brow and bit her lip. “I’ll try to talk to him this evening. Maybe there was something else behind his actions.”

George nodded.

“Ugh, I feel disgusting,” groaned Viktoria, dramatically slouching back on the chaise.

“About the rumour?” asked George.

“No, no. God, no.” Viktoria was surprised that George thought she would be repulsed by others thinking she had fucked another woman. She was nowhere near repulsed. In fact, she thought George was rather pretty, and she couldn’t say she hadn’t participated in sapphic promiscuity before. “I’ve had my blood in for the past week.”

“Ah,” said George, completely understanding Viktoria’s discomfort, being a woman herself. “I’m supposed to get mine soon as well,” she added. As there was a beat of silence, signifying the conversation was over, George stood from the chaise preparing to leave. “I’ll see you at dinner,” she said.

Viktoria stood as well. “You can dress in here, if you wish to avoid Grigor.”

“That’s very kind, but I believe he’s already left our apartments.”

They gave each other polite nods before going their separate ways; George to her own chambers, and Viktoria to continue getting ready.

* * *

“Hey, can I talk to you?” Viktoria had caught Grigor at the tail end of dinner, deeming it an appropriate time to bring up the whole rumour debacle.

“Sure,” said Grigor, following her out into the hall, and then an adjacent parlour. Viktoria had wanted to keep this conversation private, as to not create even more rumours. “Is this about the rumour?” he asked after she had closed the door.

“Yes.” He couldn’t tell if she was as upset with him as George had been; her expression was mixed.

“George talked to you?”

“Yes.”

Grigor was still trying to test the waters. He decided to say, “I would’ve said something about the rumour but I just didn’t know if-“

“They were actually true?”

“Exactly,” said Grigor, keeping an anxious eye on Viktoria. Her hands on her hips added to his fear that she was upset with him. “I wouldn’t have been mad, if it was true.” Viktoria’s expression softened. He shrugged. “I just would’ve liked to know.”

“Of course,” said Viktoria, moving to place her hand gently on his arm. “Both of us would’ve told you. If it was true.”

Grigor nodded, relieved that Viktoria seemed to understand where he was coming from. “And with Smolny,I- he just caught me off guard. We were all so drunk, I guess I just didn’t thing much of it.”

Viktoria took a deep breath. “Well, then. That’s all sorted. I’ll check back with George.”

As she went to leave, Grigor caught her wrist and pulled her into a kiss. After she got over the initial surprise, Viktoria eased into the kiss, letting Grigor’s hand find the small of her back. As the two parted, Grigor gave Viktoria a soft “thank you.”

Viktoria smiled. “My apartments, tonight?”

Grigor smiled back. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Really Wish I Hated You is back, baby! Here is a brand new chapter which will be the first of four more :) Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy these new chapters! <3
> 
> \- LadyStrallan :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to start another series! Listen to the Blink-182 songs while you read :) Each chapter's title is a song. I love this show and I can't wait for a second season <3
> 
> \- LadyStrallan :)


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